The Docklands Girls (10 page)

The autumn passed and winter began. It was severe and bitterly cold and there was a shortage of coal. People were burning old furniture to try and keep warm. Food queues grew longer and the rationing was still meagre. Headlines in the paper reported that Glenn Miller, the popular band leader, was missing over the Channel, which saddened thousands who’d danced to his music.

At Christmas, however, the Canadians sent over a supply of beautiful red apples for the children and bananas. For some, it was the first time they’d seen this fruit, so imagine the scene when they were shown how to take off the peel before eating this strange phenomenon. The American troops still stationed in the town gave parties for the children and American candy was handed out, which delighted the children more than anything else.

Cora and Belle managed to buy a small sack of coal from one of their friends, but they didn’t ask where it came from; they were just delighted to be warm. They purchased a chicken, made paper chains out of crêpe paper and hung them around the small sitting room to try to make it look
festive and Belle found some paper Chinese lanterns from a box of old decorations. On Christmas Eve, they went to a carol service at St. Michael’s Church.

As they settled in their pew, Belle looked around at the packed congregation, all huddled up in thick coats and scarves, but nevertheless there was a festive feel to the church, decorated with holly and berries, with the scene of the Nativity before the alter.

She knelt down and said her prayers – they were like so many others there, praying for an end to the war and the safe return of their loved ones.

Prayers were read and carols sung, the vicar filling the air with incense as he walked down the aisle, swinging the thurible on its long golden chain.

Belle loved the atmosphere created during a service; she admired the theatre of it all. It was a performance like no other and it cleansed her soul.

As she sat listening to the sermon, her mind wandered. She thought back to how she’d started her life on the streets of Southampton’s docklands, of the many men who’d paid for her services, knowing that many of them would not be returning home and she hoped she’d been able to give them some comfort in a strange land. Some she remembered clearly, others were a blur. Some she didn’t want to recall at all, but they were in the minority. It had been a tough way to earn a living, but she didn’t regret it. Now she was living a different kind of life, although she did wonder what she’d do after the war was over and the factory closed. Cora would be off to London and she’d be alone again. She didn’t relish that fact at all.

Cora felt tears trickle down her face as she sat staring
at the altar. This was the fourth Christmas she’d spent without her parents. As a family, they’d always attend this carol service and suddenly it brought back the desolation of her loss.

On Christmas Eve, she and her mother would have prepared the vegetables for the Christmas dinner, made mince pies and wrapped gifts, placing them around the Christmas tree. Then they would have all had a small glass of sherry before making their way to the church.

Her mother Jessy was a gentle woman, a good mother and wife, and Cora knew that had she known how her daughter had earned her money, selling her body, she would have been appalled and ashamed. A sob caught in Cora’s throat and she closed her eyes, trying to get the thought from her mind. But at least now, she told herself, she was earning money in a way that would have met with her mother’s approval, so thanked the Lord for that.

She couldn’t wait to be able to move to London without anyone knowing of her shameful past. She would miss her friend Belle who had stood by her, but she had to make this move alone.

The girls trudged home in the cold, banking up the fire as soon as they stepped inside the flat. They had managed to buy some logs which helped to eke out their coal supply. Belle poured them a gin and tonic each and they sat warming themselves before the fire.

‘Well, I wonder where we’ll be this time next year?’ Belle muttered. ‘I hope to God the war will be over long before that.’

‘Oh, Belle, it can’t possibly last that long surely?’

‘Let’s hope not.’ She cut a couple of slices of bread and,
putting them on a toasting fork, held them against the flames. ‘I long for roast beef and Yorkshire pudding,’ she said wistfully.

‘I want a bar of Cadbury chocolate and ice cream,’ Cora said.

‘I want to soak in a hot bath, with water up to the waste pipe.’ Belle said with a grin.

‘I want to go shopping for clothes that are not utility and without the need for coupons.’ Cora started to laugh. ‘One day, Belle. One day.’

Finally on 8th May 1945, the girls got their wish. The Germans had surrendered and Winston Churchill made his broadcast to the nation with the good news.

Thousands gathered at the Civic Centre in Southampton to celebrate VE Day. They cheered, danced and sang, some draped in British flags. ‘There’ll Always Be An England’ rang out. Troops from foreign lands joined in, knowing that for them it was all over too.

Belle was in the arms of an American GI, dancing to the music which was being played over loudspeakers, and Cora was doing the same with a Polish airman. People were kissing each other, carried away with joy that the war was over. The pubs were full, music played, people were ecstatic. But for those who’d lost kinfolk it was a muted celebration.

‘The boys will all be coming home!’ cried Belle, flinging her arm around Cora’s shoulder. ‘Your man Hank, Hildy’s fiancé Milt, thank God for that!’

All the staff working in the munitions factory had been called to the canteen to hear the good news and listen to
Winston Churchill speak. There was silence as they sat, hardly breathing with excitement. At the end of the speech, cheering began. Hildy Dickson found she was crying. Her Milt had come through safely. They could be married! He had never doubted the fact, but she had been terrified that she could have lost him. The knowledge that now he really was safe was all too much for her and she sobbed uncontrollably.

The girl sitting next to her put an arm round her shoulders. ‘Don’t cry, Hildy, love, it’s all over. Your man will be coming home.’

Mopping her tears and blowing her nose, Hildy said, ‘I know, but it’s just such a relief.’

They were given an extra half an hour lunch break before returning to their machines, then they all began wondering just how much longer they would be employed, but delighted that Spitfires would no longer be needed to fight the enemy.

In London, crowds gathered in front of Buckingham Palace and cheered wildly as the royal family came out onto the balcony. Earlier they’d listened to the King’s speech. It was a great celebration nationwide.

Olive Dickson heard the news in the shop where she worked. People from the street gathered to listen to Churchill as the owner turned up the volume on the wireless. It was the only topic of conversation for the rest of the day.

As she put the key into her front door and entered her empty house, she felt very much alone. Yes, she was pleased the war was over, of course she was, but that meant that Hildy would be free to marry her GI and leave Southampton for good.

She made a cup of tea and sat down. She really was alone now. She had no close friends. Her neighbours just nodded when they saw her and walked on. It was her own fault, of course. She hadn’t gone out of her way to make friends because she hadn’t needed them. She had Hildy at her beck and call – but not any longer. Even if they were on speaking terms, in time her daughter would leave to cross the Atlantic to another country and she’d probably never see her again. Her lodger had gone too. Not that she saw much of him, but it was a comfort to know he was in the house. Well, she’d just have to advertise again. But now, would there be anyone needing accommodation? She let out a deep sigh.

During the days that followed, street parties were organised. Tables were set out in the streets, women raided their pantries and food was produced. Paper hats were found and bunting hung from windows and roofs. Pianos were wheeled out onto the street. Old grievances were buried. The whole atmosphere in the country changed. Folk wandered around with broad grins, hardly able to believe the good news. It was a joyous time for most.

For those who’d lost members of their family, it was a mixed blessing. No more men and women needed to die and everyone was relieved about that, but so many had paid the ultimate sacrifice and there were many houses filled with sadness and broken hearts.

As the celebrations continued, Hildy sat reading a letter from Milt.

A few weeks later, Cora was wondering if it was time for her to move out of Southampton and put her plan for a new life into place. She decided to take a day off and go to London to look for work. It was the only way. She didn’t want to give up her job until she’d found another, that would be foolish. She told Belle of her plans.

‘I’ll get an early train, buy a paper and visit a couple of employment exchanges to see if they have anything to offer.’

Belle’s heart sank. She knew this day would come and she wanted her friend to get a new start, but Belle knew she would leave a deep void in her own life. They’d been through so much together.

‘That’s a good idea,’ she agreed. ‘Put your toe in the water so to speak. Well, good luck, love. Hope it goes well.’

The following morning, Cora found a seat in a carriage and watched the countryside pass by as she sat beside the window, her heart beating faster with excitement and a certain trepidation.

When she arrived at Waterloo and walked out of the station, she could still see the signs of war as she looked at the stacks of sand-filled sacks piled high in front of official looking buildings. She bought a couple of papers and went inside a cafe to read them, ordering a pot of tea. She turned to the situations vacant and began her search.

By the end of the day, Cora was exhausted and disappointed. So far she’d not been able to find suitable employment as her lack of training had held her back in many instances. Women who had taken over men’s positions in various establishments were now expected to step down when the men returned from the war and it made the situation even worse for her.

There were menial jobs on offer, but none that appealed to her. She didn’t fancy washing out public toilets, or sweeping streets. If she was going to start a fresh life, she at least wanted to start with a job that paid well and gave her some satisfaction. She’d been to employment agencies and left her name and address should they have anything to offer in the future, but she caught a late train home feeling weary and dejected.

Belle, in her nightdress and dressing gown, heard the front door open. She waited to see how her friend had made out with mixed feelings, but as soon as she saw the look on Cora’s face, she knew that the day had not been a success and quietly breathed a sigh of relief.

Cora sat down and immediately removed her shoes and massaged her aching feet.

‘Bloody waste of time that was!’ she exclaimed.

‘What happened?’ asked Belle as she put on the kettle to make her friend a cup of tea.

Cora told her of her attempts to find a job. It was a long and sorry tale.

‘So what will you do?’ asked Belle.

‘I’ll leave it for a few weeks and try again.’ At the back of her mind, she thought that if the same thing happened she’d contact Joe Keating. After all, he’d offered to find her work and if she couldn’t do it by herself, she’d have no option. Not if she was determined to move to the metropolis.

A month later saw her once again on a train heading for Waterloo Station.

By late afternoon, Cora was totally frustrated. She had decided that she’d really like to work in one of the department stores, but when she’d enquired, she was told there were no positions vacant. In desperation, she’d tried cafes and restaurants for a job as a waitress, but those she’d tried wanted people with experience. She sat on a bench in a park, lit a cigarette and took out Joe Keating’s card and read it. Across the road was a phone booth and after giving the matter some considerable thought, she walked across the road, put her money in the box, dialled a number then pressed button ‘A’ when she heard a voice answer.

‘Joe Keating, Business Consultant.’ It was a woman speaking.

‘Could I speak to Mr Keating, please?’

‘May I ask who is calling?’

‘Miss Cora Barnes from Southampton.’

‘Please hold the line.’

Cora waited, her heart pounding. What if he didn’t remember her?

‘Well, Miss Cora Barnes, this is a pleasant surprise. What can I do for you?’

The relief she felt was enormous when she heard his voice. ‘I’m here in London looking for a job and I’m not having any luck and you did tell me to call you if I needed any help. So here I am!’

She heard a soft chuckle on the line. ‘Indeed you are. Where are you?’

‘I’m not at all sure,’ she said. ‘I’m in a call box.’

‘Look at the notice on the wall of the box and there will be an address.’

She did as she was told and eventually found it and relayed the information.

‘Fine, wait outside and I’ll pick you up in ten minutes.’ He replaced the receiver.

Cora stepped outside and let out a deep breath.
Belle will be furious with me,
she thought, but I’m desperate. It can’t do any harm just to talk to the man.